


Strange Meetings

by Addison



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, Tumblr Prompt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-08
Updated: 2015-03-08
Packaged: 2018-03-16 20:22:19
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,298
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3501599
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Addison/pseuds/Addison
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tumblr Prompt: 'i'm in my underpants in a laundromat waiting for my clothes to get washed and your clothes are in the machine next to mine and i noticed that when you put your clothes in they were all covered in blood what the fuck' au<br/>Saw this prompt, poured myself some alcohol and got to work.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Strange Meetings

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. This was written purely for fun. No harm meant in any of this.  
> 2\. I haven't written a fic in a long time so apologies in advance. Especially for the lack of coherent narrative.  
> 3\. I learned a mix of American and British English and I am currently studying in the UK so sorry for the mixed slang, if any.  
> [Credit to owner of prompt](http://theappleppielifestyle.tumblr.com/post/112392287541/list-of-aus-to-consider-where-one-or-both-of-ur)

To most people, this would be an awkward situation but Harry is not most people. He’s not ashamed of his body. His neighbours can attest to that given the amount of complaints filed against him for walking around his flat naked. The hell with them, it’s not like he does it outside his flat...much.

He usually does his laundry on Thursdays but work has been mad this week so he wasn’t able to get to it. Then today, he got caught in the rain without an umbrella, tripped over the sidewalk and somehow ripped his pants and his shirt got caught on a nail. And to top it all off, his spilled his dinner all over his remaining clean clothes which is why he’s standing in the middle of the launderette just below his flat in nothing but his underwear.

All in all, it’s been a good day.

The launderette is deserted except for a poor, beleaguered employee who’s rubbing his head in exasperation at the half-naked man in his store. He’s a regular here so he figure the guy, Ben is used to his quirkiness by now but this is probably different than his usual weirdness. Everybody else who had came in took one look inside and turned around immediately.

But Harry is not about to let any of that get him down. So, he makes himself comfortable on the bench in front of one of the machines, stretching out his lanky body. He’s finished with his washing so he’s only waiting for the dryer. He only wishes it wasn’t so cold in there.

The bell at the front door rings but he doesn’t look up. He fully expects whoever it is to turn around and leave so he’s quite surprised when he doesn’t hear the bell again signaling their departure.

He looks up to see a gorgeous bleach blonde boy setting down his laundry basket at the machine a few units down from his own. He’s about his age and judging from the brown roots, his blonde hair is probably dyed.

The blonde glances in his direction and has to bite his lip to hold back the snicker. Harry cracks a smile in amusement when the blonde steals another glance and pretty blatantly checks him out.

“Would you like to borrow a jacket, mate?” The blonde asks. There’s an amusement in his voice behind the politeness.

Harry has to draw his legs together; he’s always had a thing for Irish accents. “No, thanks, I’m okay,” he drawls.

“Ya sure?” The blonde laughs and waves his hand at him. At first Harry is struck with awe at how his face lights up. When he notices light blush on his cheeks, he looks down to his chest where the blonde’s gesturing.

He gives the mildest reaction upo seeing his nipples have hardened from the cold. “Oh.”

“Oh?” The blonde stares at him incredulously. He shuts his eyes as he pinches the bridge of his nose and laughs loudly at his ridiculousness.

“It is to be expected.” Harry shrugs as his lips tilt up in a lazy, lop-sided grin. Ben just rolls his eyes and goes to the back room, having given up caring about the nonsense going on in his place of business.

“Okay, then. The blonde shakes his head in amusement and turns his attention back to his laundry, not showing the smallest bit of curiosity at why he’s half-naked in the first place.

He starts taking his clothes out of the basket to put in the machine.

 Harry’s grin falls away as his eyes widen slightly. The clothes he’s tossing in the machine are covered with blood. Too much to be from a nose bleed or a shaving accident. It could be animal blood which raises other questions. The boy doesn’t look like a butcher but then again Harry not exactly sure what a butcher ‘looks like’.

Either way he probably should keep his mouth shut but Harry has never had a very good brain-to-mouth filter. “Whoa, what happened there?”

The blonde looks up in confusion but it quickly falls away when he realizes he’s talking about the clothes. Then, his lips quirk up in a mischievous grin. “Well, Pointy Nipple Man, I’m a serial killer and now that I’ve told you, yer gonna hav to be me next victim.”

Harry’s eyebrows scrunch up at the nickname he’s been given. Judging from his expression, it’s probably safe to assume he’s not really a serial killer. “Showing up in public with a basket full of bloody clothes seems like a amateur move for a serial killer. You not worried at how that looks?”

“Ah, but you showed up in public in nothing but yer underpants pants. Torn underpants, even,” the blonde points out, “You not worried at THAT looks?”

There’s a slight quirk in his lips as Harry tries to keep the smile off his face. “I don’t know, how DOES it look?”

“It looks like you are standing half-naked in the middle of a launderette with a tear in yer underpants,” The blonde states simply, “To say anymore would be making assumptions and I don’t make assumptions about strangers, especially not one as cute as you, Pointy Nipple Man.” He leans against the washing machine, propping his elbow on top of it. There’s a smirk on his face showing off his confidence.

Harry tries to do the same but he’s thrown off by the loud ‘ding’ and in his incoordination, stumbles and trips over his own laundry basket. He just manages to save himself from falling on his arse by hanging on to one of the washing machines.

The blonde lets out another hearty laugh which Harry’s more and more convinced is the most beautiful sound he’s ever heard. “I think yours is done.”

Harry goes to take out his clothes and places them in his laundry basket. At the very least, he puts on a pair of his pants and a shirt. He glances over to the blonde who’s writing something on a notepad with a neutral expression on his face. He wishes he could stay and chat but he has work that he can’t put off.

He realizes he doesn’t even know the other boy’s name so he would like to at least know that before he leaves.

So, he tries to play it off nonchalantly, not wanting to look desperate. “Sadly, our time has come to an end. I must be off, Mister Serial Killer.”

“It was nice meeting you, Pointy Nipple Man.” The blonde holds his hand out.

“At the very least, you should know my name, for no other purpose that you stop calling me that. It’s Harry.” He takes his hand in a handshake.

“Okay, Harreh Pointy Nipple Man.”

He tries not to look too disappointed that he doesn’t give his name. For his sake, he manages to gather up his laundry and walk to the exit without another clumsy accident. It’s not until he’s reached the door that he realizes the blond slipped a piece of paper in his hands. Written in a messy scrawls is the name ‘Niall’ along with a phone number.

There’s a goofy grin plastered on his face now. He looks back at Niall who’s pouring in the detergent and starting up the washing machine.

He’s about to push the door open when he hears Ben return from the back room. “Niall, did you remember to soak the scrubs in cold water before you threw them into the machine this time?”

“Oh, fuck,” Niall curses before burying his face in his hands and groaning.

“How the hospital hasn’t fired you yet, I’ll never know,” Ben throws his hands up in exasperation.

This time it’s Harry’s turn to shake his head and laugh in amusement.


End file.
